The Meanings Behind the Kiss
by Nolesr1
Summary: ok, so this story has practically nothing to do with Perfect Chemistry but this was the only place I could think to put this little one-shot. these characters are completely mine so... yes. any way's this story is exactly as the title says: exploring the different meanings behind the kiss. there is strong language so be advised. please try and tell me what you think


A kiss represents many things: the sealing of an agreement, an act of endearment, the showing of some varying degree of fondness or love, and the promise of something more to happen. In this familiar gesture of fondness, both parties are showing their true colors or their brief moment of vulnerability. As there are hundreds of untold relationships and thousands upon thousands of different people, each kiss will be, understandably, different. But each hopes to invoke the same emotion; love, loyalty, some kind of promise, and the notion that, although there is no promise of tomorrow, that I will always be here for you in some way.

...

**The Surprised Kiss**

Noel stared out the window, her earphones jamming music in her ear and her pencil swirling idly around her fingers. Every once in a while, she would lower the pencil, crumple the paper seated in front of her on her bed, and attempt to toss it in the trashcan next to her bed, keeping track of each paper ball that found its way into the can. Her tally, thus far, was 5 out of at least 15 thrown paper balls. Unfortunately, this proved a fact that she had long ago discovered: she was never going to become a major league basket baller, a fact which, she often pointed out to herself, easily scratched off a future line of employment, which made things a whole lot easier for the 9th grader.

Slowly returning her attention to the paper in front of her, she tried to concentrate on the question that their stupid English teacher had asked them that a couple days ago in school: 'what is the best thing about friends?' in truth, Noel had no idea in the slightest what the 'best' things about her friends were because they were all so different: one friend was a genius, the other was jokester, and another was an athlete and on and on the list went. So, in truth, this was like picking a favorite band or a favorite book; and it was proving a lot more difficult than her teacher had originally set it up to be.

"How am I supposed to know the best things about my friends when they're all different?" she muttered out loud to herself, hoping for some small idea to be drifting in the air at that moment. Of course, when she really needed it, it wasn't there.

"Watcha doing?" a voice asked from the door way making Noel notice-a little late-that her cheap earphones had just fallen out of her ear. Glancing up in annoyance, Noel saw her best guy friend leaning against her doorframe.

"Did I give you permission to enter my room?" she snapped, ignoring his question. He smirked and walked right in, noticing the pile of crumpled pages littered around her trash can.

"No, and since I'm not an unholy minion of the dead, I don't need permission." He countered easily, dragging her old computer chair (which did not come with a computer, she had realized much to her chagrin) to the edge of her bed. When he sat down, he eyed her torn, crumpled, and generally abused pieces of notebook paper tossed all over her bed. "Having fun?" He questioned, managing a straight face, by some act of God. "Yes," she answered serenely, holding a pencil to his face threateningly, "Would you care to join me?"

"Nope," he answered casually, reclining in her rolling chair, "I finished mine, like, 2 days ago."

"How?" she demanded flatly, feeling an indignant wave crash over her; stupid Austen, she grumbled internally.

"I didn't wait for the last minute to do the project."

"I didn't either!"

"Noel, the project is due tomorrow."

"Bite me," she growled, pointing the tip of her dull pencil at him threateningly. He didn't flinch, just grinned at her in amusement. Wondering if she should throw something at him, she quickly dislodged the notion, namely due to the fact that she didn't have anything heavy enough to truly knock some sense into his fat head. Turning back to the project at hand, she tried to ignore the insistent, obnoxious, off-key humming of her stupid friend. Finally, after about 5 minutes of staring at the picture filled with her doodles, she gave up and crumpled the page into a ball. Just when she was about to throw it, Austen intercepted, his hand darting in front of her, a silent order: 'Let me try.'

"And why would I give you this?" Noel demanded, holding the page as far away from him as she could manage, "Because of your indispensable help, right?"

"No, because I can actually get it in."

"I can too!"

"I'm sorry, so it's just my imagination that it looked like it snowed in here?"

"… I hope you get eaten by rabid geese."

"I'll take that as a 'yes'," he retorted smugly, reaching over Noel and grabbing the crumpled page in her hand. Ignoring the explicit growls emitted by his friend. Psyching himself up, he raised his hand, the page fitted snugly in his palm, and tossed the page with all his might. The page sailed through the air and…

… Fell short about an inch, joining it's brethren on the floor of Noel's room. He stared at the page for a second, refusing to turn to his friend to see the smug 'I-told-you-so' look on her face. "Err, best two out of three?"

"Fail Austen, epic fail." She laughed, nudging his leg with her toe, "I'd stick to Soccer if I were you"

"The sun was in my eye, so of course I missed it."

"Sun? what sun? It's been raining on and off for the last 2 days. By now, most the people in town probably forgot what the sun looks like."

"Im talking about my amazingly sunny outlook and personality."

"…You're 'amazingly sunny outlook and personality' are only sunny in one place."

"Really? And where's that?"

"Hell." Austen laughed, shooting her an easy grin then leaned forward and whispered in her face,

"Do you know that from experience?"

"Jerk."

"Blondie."

"Hypocri-" before she could finish the sentiment, Austen found himself leaning in, against his will, and planting a kiss on his best friend's lips. He was, in all honesty, surprised by his actions. Granted, it was an amazing way to shut her up, but still. It was as unexpected to her as it was to him. After a second (or 5, all he knew was that he eventually pulled away. Because he was kind of beginning to get dizzy. Because of the weather outside. That's it. Kind of.) He pulled away and stared into her wide eyes, astonished to see a blush rising to her cheeks and feeling his own cheeks burn. Like lightning, he jumped up and scrambled backwards, successfully bumping into her trashcan, sending trash all over her room. She didn't seem to notice, just stared at him with wide eyes.

"Umm," he mumbled, scrambling for some excuse on why he had to leave. "My, uhh, gold fish died and, uhh, I need to, uhh, go. Like, now," maybe it wasn't all that graceful but her sure didn't miss his chance for an exit, all the while managing to run into the doorframe 3 times before he finally found the giant door hole. Noel stared at her quickly retreating friend, her mind scrambling for some excuse on what just happened, all the while wondering what all that had been about. Her door was still wide open, so when she saw her mom walk by, balancing a clothes basket on her hip she wasn't all that surprised. What did surprise her was when her mother stopped and glanced at Noel.

"What on earth is going on in here?" her mom demanded, staring holes at the startled teen, "Austen just ran out here looking like he had just walked in on you changing." Here, her mom paused, raised an eyebrow, and actually looked at her daughter. "Good Lord, don't tell me he walked in on you agai-"

"Mom," she interrupted, feeling her face change to an even brighter red, "I, uhh, have stuff to do and I, uhh…" Looking far more amused than the subject called for, her mom slowly nodded and reached for the door knob; of course being her mom, she made sure to shoot Noel a wink before closing the door. Staring blankly at her blank notebook paper, Noel heard her teacher's voice drift through her mind, 'What is one of the best things about your friends?' Noel continued to stare down at her page. 'Nope,' she thought faintly, 'still nothing.'

….

**The Welcome Home Kiss**

Lizzie bit down hard on her lip, glancing, every now and then, at her mother who made sure to grip her only daughter's hand tightly, making sure she didn't get lost in the airport crowd. People weaved in and out of each other, making finding someone a pain in the butt. 10 year old Lizzie felt like she had just entered a new world; around her she heard so many different languages and saw so many different looking people. "Don't worry, _Ma Petite Colombe_," her mother cooed softly, not looking at her daughter but standing in her toes, trying to get a better look. Lizzie scowled, not calmed by the pet name and wishing that she was as tall as her mother.

"_Maman_," she asked, holding up her arms. Sighing, her mom glanced tiredly down at her,

"Come on, _Petite Colombe, _aren't you a little too old for that?" shaking her head stubbornly, Lizzie continued holding her arms out until, finally, her mom reached down, picked her up, and placed her on her shoulders. Beaming, Lizzie scanned the Airport, trying to find the familiar camo-colors and patterns, but finding nothing. Unwillingly to give up, she let her gaze fall over anything and everything, not allowing one person to escape her line of sight. Finally giving up, Lizzie allowed her mother to let her down, feeling her eyes burn and wondering, maybe, if something went wrong.

"_Dieu Notre Père," _she prayed under her breathe, the familiar French words calming her. Because, her mind rationalized, it's impossible that anything could happen to her _Père. _It was like telling her that the Sun would stop shining one day. Hearing a heavy sigh, Lizzie glanced up at her exhausted looking mother. Her mother looked down at her and smiled tiredly, the smile easing Lizzie's heavy heart. Her mother, she knew, was the prettiest woman in the world.

"I'm going to ask one of the Flight attendants if his has flight landed yet. You'll be alright, won't you, _mon bébé_?" her mother asked. Lizzie nodded, knowing that was exactly what her mother wanted her to do. Glancing over her shoulders, Lizzie's mother led her daughter through the maze of people around them until they found a seat where a man was sitting, reading a newspaper. Eyeing the man warily, Lizzie slowly took a seat (3 seats away from the man. Her mother, after all, had taught Lizzie all about 'stranger danger') and watched her mother for any sign of what to do next.

"Stay here, alright?" her mother told her, placing a firm hand on her shoulder as though to emphasize where 'here' was. "Don't leave this spot Lizzie, _vous comprenez_?"

"_Je comprends Maman,"_ Lizzie answered obediently, watching as her mother nodded, and then vanished into the crowd. After about 5 minutes, Lizzie began shifting nervously in her seat, feeling the familiar pull of impatience rolling through her. Lizzie slowly began to wonder just how much trouble she'd be in if she went looking for her mother. After glancing at the now thinning crowd, Lizzie began biting her lips, slowly guessing her chances of finding her mother…

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the man, who'd surprised Lizzie for sitting there so long and reading that boring paper, said suddenly, "Your mother would be extremely put out with you for disobeying her." Narrowing her eyes at the man, Lizzie couldn't help but feel that his deep timbre, somewhat raspy, voice was somehow familiar to her. Still squinting at him, the man slowly lowered his paper and smiled at Lizzie. Lizzie's heart practically burst in her chest as she took in the man's big brown eyes, dark brown, crow-cut hair, and the faint remnants of a beard beginning to show up on his face.

"_Papa_," she asked slowly, hardly able keep her voice from shaking. The man's brown, smiling eyes warmed at the name and he opened his arms,

"_ma petite fille_," he crowed softly, his voice and eyes filling with emotion. "Oh_, ma belle petite princesse._"

"_Papa_," she wailed, eyes filling with tears as she threw herself into the man's open arms. Burying her face in his shoulder, Lizzie felt him sprinkle kisses on the top of her head. After a while, she became aware of the sound of another familiar voice. Lifting her head just enough so that she could see her mother, Lizzie felt something in her warm at the sight of the two people she loved most in the same small area.

"_Accueillir à la maison_," her mother said, smiling fondly at her husband.

"Welcome home, Papa!" Lizzie trilled, repeating her mother's words, and beaming up at her mother and father. Both of her parents laughed, her mother reaching over and ruffling Lizzie's white-blonde hair. Her father smiled at both of her girls and planted another kiss on Lizzie's forehead, earning a giggle from Lizzie.

"It's good to be back," her father said, his familiar deep voice sending warm tingles to Lizzie's very toes. "And it feels good to have both of my girls back in my arms." Her mother cleared her throat pointedly, reminding Lizzie that her mother was a short distance away. Her father, his eyes dancing with fond amusement, chuckled and shifted Lizzie from his arms to sit on his shoulder. Keeping one of his arms up to keep her firmly on his shoulders, he stretched out his other arm to Lizzie's mother and wrapped it tightly around her shoulder. "My apologies, _mon amour_," her father whispered to her mother. Lizzie watched as her mother completely melted under her father's voice and the endearment. "You know I missed you, more than almost anything." Lizzie huffed and wrapped her arms around her father's forehead. Her father, in turn, chuckled and turned his head as sharply as he could to look at her. "Of course I missed you as well, _mon Chaton_." Lizzie, satisfied, nodded and rested her head on top of her father's and watched as her mother's eyes teared up and she buried her face in her husband's shoulder, while her father sang a song too soft for Lizzie to hear. For the first time, Lizzie didn't feel bad about seeing those tears because she knew that her mother wasn't crying because her father was gone, but because her father was finally home.

….

**The I'm Proud of you Kiss**

Shane was exhausted. He and his mother had just spent at least 3 hours planting flowers in the garden of their new home in Florida. "Come on mom," Shane groaned, running his arm across his forehead to wipe away some of the sweat. "We've been out here forever. Can we please take a break? Please?" Shane asked, shooting her his best 'I'm-your-baby-boy' look and hoping for some kind of positive reaction. His mother just rolled her eyes and flicked some water at him. Shane wrinkled his nose at her, "I knew we shouldn't have put the water bucket near you," He grumbled. His mother laughed, then stood up and walked over to him, placing a hand on the top of his head.

"I'm proud of you," his mother told him. Shane flushed, both with pleasure and because he could hear the genuine pride in her voice. This, he realized, his why he loved his mother so much; while his father's love had to earned through football and high scores in classes, his mother's love seemed to be completely and utterly given away, like a billionaire just giving away money. His mom was the billionaire and always, without question and consequence, gave him whatever he needed.

"I'll make you a deal," his mother told him, her hand still playing with the blonde curls on his head. "Let's do this for… one more hour and then we can go out and get some ice-cream? Deal?" grinning up at her, he nodded and reached out for the seeds at his side. Glancing down at the pouch, he noticed that the flower was another Tulip. Frowning, he glanced over his shoulder at his mom,

"Hey mom, why do you have so many Tulips?" smiling faintly, she clapped her gloved hands together and returned to where she had been standing before, this time she crouched down so she could look at her son.

"Each flower," she began, reaching out and cupping her hand one of the newest bulbs that had popped up, "represents something different. Each color, as well, also represents something." Smiling, she reached out and picked up an empty pouch and showed it to Shane. "For example, this flower, known as a Star of Bethlehem, represents hope. And this," here, his mother dropped the pouch and turned to another flower, one that was already planted and had already grown, "this one here is known as a Pansy-" here, she stopped and gave Shane a sharp, amused look because of a sudden coughing fit that had overcome him-"it represents loving thoughts." Smiling, she turned her full attention to Shane and reached out her hand. Shane obliged and handed her the White Tulip Pouch. Her entire face softened as brushed some dirt off of the pouch. "and this," she said softly, finally glancing up and cupping Shane's cheek in her gloved hand, "this flower represents 'Forgiveness'," she leaned forward and kissed Shane's forehead, completely ignoring the sweat that had coated itself on his forehead. "I'm planting these here," She continued, inclining her head towards the closest window which, incidentally, wound up being Shane's, "So that whenever you look out your window, you will know that I will always love you. There is nothing that you can do that cannot be forgiven." Shane suddenly felt his eyes water and turned quickly away from the sunlight that was shining in her eyes.

Clearing his throat, he finally spoke, "Please don't make me go to a new school," he begged, allowing his mother to see, for the first time, his vulnerability. "I'll do anything; I'll do better in my classes and I won't pick fights. Just please, _please _don't make me go to another school. _Please_." Shane was surprised to feel something cool trail down his cheek, but he didn't look away. This would be his 4th school on less than 2 years, and he couldn't stand being the new kid all over again. Come on! He was only 14, couldn't his parents do anything? Did he really have to go to a new school? "Mom, please. I-." his mother held up and hand and Shane went silent, holding his breath.

"We're not doing this to hurt you, Shane. We're doing this because we think this is what's best for you. And the school you're going-Lakewood High, I believe it's called- is actually a really good-"

"Mom!" Shane interrupted, feeling his small bubble of hope burst, "Please. I-I'll do anything. I'll get a job. I'll live with Aunt Marcella up in South Carolina. But p-please don't send me to another school!" his mother, always the calm one when faced with panic, just stared at him, keeping her face clean of any emotion.

Finally, though, his mother smiled sadly and placed a hand on his shoulder, "Listen to me Shane," she began, her voice low enough that he had to lean in to hear her. "God will never give you any more than you can handle. And, as it is usually wise to follow God's lead, neither will I," smiling faintly, she squeezed his shoulder and continued, "We are so proud of you. And, of course, I mean both your father and I-"here, Shane somehow managed to control a snort of disbelief- "and we know, without a shadow of a doubt, that you will make us proud." Smiling one last time, she removed her hand from his shoulder and became more businesslike. Well, as businesslike as she can be. "Anyways," she continued with a smile, "I start my new job at that renovation department I talked so much about and your father has accepted-"

"A promotion from Lawson's," Shane finished, rolling his eyes. "I liked it better back in Charleston," he grumbled. His mother smiled and nodded to something over Shane's shoulder. Glancing over his shoulder, Shane saw a Gazebo that matched the one back at their old house to a key: same pretty looking wood, same flowers and fountain around it, and, from what Shane could see, come spring, there would also be Jasmine flowers growing and wrapping around the Gazebo's railings. It was truly a beauty. A beauty, if he was being honest with himself that looked a lot better up in Charleston.

"I did too," his mother told him softly when he returned his gaze to her. She reached out and squeezed his hands, "But we are here and we might as well make the best of the situation at hand, deal?" Shane glanced down at his knees, noticing that the knees of his jeans were covered in dirt. His mother ducked her head down, trying to get him to look at her. The funny thing about his mom, even though she had Strawberry blonde hair, when the sun hits it just right, it turns gold. Not like his blonde hair or his father's blonde hair but genuine, pure gold.

Glancing back up at her, Shane met his mother's green eyes. Green met blue and Shane found himself nodding, "Deal." He finally said his voice hollow. His mother smiled and released his hands, standing up and wiping the dirt off her clothes and onto her pants.

"Well," she began, smiling and turning in a complete circle. "I say our hard work deserves a cool treat, eh?" smiling, Shane followed his mother's actions and stood up, wiping his hands on his pant legs. Smiling at him, his mother reached out and ruffled his hair, then proceeded to stand on her toes and kiss his forehead, and then turned toward the back door, and Shane knew she was going to change. He made to follow, but then looked down and saw the unplanted White Tulip pouch. Glancing towards the back door to make sure his mother wasn't watching, he ripped the top of the pouch off and crouched back down, using his hands as a shovel. As soon as he made a deep enough hole in the ground, he upended the pouch and watched as the seed fell easily into the hole; he then proceeded to fill the hole back up with dirt. Turning his body in a semi-circle, he reached out for the watering pail and tilted the pail just enough to pour enough water to water the plant, but to not drown it. Placing the pail back where it was originally, he slowly rose to his feet, his eyes never leaving the spot where the Tulip-His Tulip-was planted.

….

**The I'm here Kiss**

Lightning streaked across the sky, followed, almost instantly, by a roar of thunder. Gail found herself curled up in the fetal position under her covers, hands pressed against her ears. "Please," she whispered into the darkness. The storm outside stilled for the barest hint of a second, then erupted full scale around her. The house felt like it was shaking and Gail wanted desperately to get out of her bed and run to her parent's room, but she was scared that if she did, her brother's stories about monsters and ghosts would come true. Another flash of lightning illuminated the sky again followed almost instantly by a bout of thunder that rattled her window in its hinges. Even with her eyes squeezed shut and her ears covered, she still felt like the world was falling around her. She didn't know what a 'Hurricane' was- after all, she was only 5-but, if this is what is was she never wanted to experience another one. Another earth shattering crash echoed around her and she suddenly wondered if the world was ripping apart. Curling more tightly into herself, Gail began singing under her breathe. Stupid little songs about Caterpillars and Rain Going Away, but nothing was able to silence, or at least soften, the noise. She whined softly…

… Then flinched when she heard something shuffling around in her room. A click that seemed to echo around the room was soon followed by an irritated huffing. Stilling her breath, Gail wondered if, perhaps, her brother's stories actually had some truth to them. The shuffling came closer and closer to her bed and Gail found herself clutching her hands together even more tightly. When the figure was right next to her bed, Gail squeezed her eyes shut. Suddenly, she felt her blanket being pulled off of her. Slowly, her eyes still squeezed shut; she lifted her head upwards towards the sound of the deep breathing, and slowly began to open her eyes. When she saw it was her father, she nearly burst out crying. As it was, tears trickled out from the corners of her eyes. Her father eyed her for a second, then lowered himself into her bed. Without hesitation, Gail curled up against her father and buried her face in his side.

"What's the matter, Little Bug?" her father asked quietly, Gail's fears easing when she heard her father's calm, easy smile; after all, if her father was calm, she knew everything would be okay.

"The Lightning is loud," she whispered in her little voice.

Her father chuckled, and then wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulder, "It's just a little loud noise," her father told her softly, rubbing her shoulders. Gail rested her head on her father's shoulders and continued, "But, since the thunder is too loud for you to hear your music, how about I tell you a story?" Gail nodded vigorously, tilting her head upwards so that she could see her father better. Her father, looking deep in thought, smiled suddenly and snapped his fingers, "I got it," he stated, then cleared his throat dramatically, earning a small giggle from Gail, "Once upon a time, there lived a fox. One day, this fox caught a goose-"

"Bad fox," Gail muttered, earning a smile from her father.

"That's right," he told her, trying to keep his voice serious, "Well, when this fox caught the Goose, he began to mock her. He asked, 'Now, if you had me in your mouth, what would you do?'" Gail giggled at her father who had adopted a higher pitched tone for the fox. "And the goose answered, 'why,'" Here, Gail practically burst out laughing, due to the extremely high pitched voice he had used for the goose.

"You're silly daddy," Gail told him, still giggling. Somewhere outside, Lightning flashed and thunder boomed, but both father and daughter ignored it.

Her father chuckled and continued, "'why' the goose said to the fox, 'that's an easy question! I would fold my hands, close my eyes, and say Grace, and then I would eat you!' the fox, thinking he was oh so clever, said, 'Yes. That was just what I was going to do!' the fox then closed his eyes, folded his hands and said Grace. But," Gail's father began dramatically, poking Gail in the side when he said 'but' earning a small laugh from Gail who was holding her side. "While the fox was distracted, the goose found her chance and flew away, over the river, away from that mean old fox." Gail stared at her father for a second, her face completely serious.

"That goose was really smart," she finally said, looking down at her hands. Her father frowned, then placed his finger under her chin and forced her to look at him. "What's the matter Gail?" he asked, wondering what it was about the story that had made her so sad. "I wish I was as smart as the goose," Gail answered, frowning. Her father stared at her in amazement, then replied, "Abigail Marie Belle, you are, without a shadow of a doubt, one of the smartest people I have ever known." Gail stared at her father, surprised by his stern tone. "Never let anyone tell you otherwise, do you understand me?" Gail nodded, still confused at her father's tone. There was silence for a second that was soon interrupted by a loud crash of thunder. Gail flinched at the noise and curled tightly against her father's side. Her father draped an arm around her shoulder, then quickly said, "Would you like to hear another of the fox's adventures?" Gail nodded and her father erupted into another story, both ignoring the thunder and lightning as they got deeper and deeper into the story. After a while, Gail fell asleep against her father's side and, much later, her father slowly fell asleep as well, neither waking as the storm surged around them

The next morning, the sound of heavy lifting could be heard through the thick walls of Gail's room, waking both Gail and her father. Stretching, her father raised his hands above his head and then lowered his hands and opened his arms to Gail. Gail, grinning in delight, happily jumped into her father's arms. "Let's go see the damage," her father told her grimly. Outside, they saw pieces of trash thrown everywhere, debris in trees and in bushes. Gail's mother and older brother were already outside when they left the house, her mother talking to a neighbor and her brother looking through some of the debris. Her father walked towards Gail's mother and the neighbor, and Gail heard what they were saying from her place on her father's shoulder, "… an extremely nasty storm, this was," the neighbor was saying, "it was like the sky was ripping apart at the seams."

"I know," her mother responded grimly, "It's a miracle, though, that none of the houses were that seriously ruined." The neighbor nodded, then jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the back of his own house. "Had a loose branch fall into my pool and rip the lining, but that was the worst of it."

"We haven't seen our back yard yet," her father responded, clutching Gail close to his side. Gail's mother glanced over at her, smiled, and then leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

"Hello sweetie," her mother whispered, "and how did you sleep last night?" Gail wrinkled her nose and buried her face in her father's shoulder. The neighbor 'tut'-ed.

"That bad, eh?" he asked her. Gail lifted her head halfway off of her father to see the man's face. There was a nice smile resting on his face. He leaned forward slightly and winked. "Me? I couldn't sleep at all. The lightning was so bloody loud," Gail's parents chuckled and continued talking to the man, while Gail's attention drifted to her neighborhood: trashcans were up ended, debris was everywhere, branches and limbs were hanging precariously over houses. It looked awful to her. It looked as if the world had turned against itself. Her father's arms tightened around her and Gail felt safe. The world could end, she decided, but my mommy and daddy will always be there. Gail leaned forward and kissed her father's fuzzy face. Surprised, but obviously pleased, her father turned to her and returned the favor. Above them, gray clouds overhead parted, revealing weak ray of sunshine.

…..

**The You're Forgiven Kiss**

The screaming was getting out of hand. As if things were stressful enough, now Olivia and Kieran couldn't even make a bowl of cereal without finding something to argue about. And, of course, looking back, all the argument were stupid and petty, but still. This argument was, understandable, the same; neither even understood the reason behind the screaming and yelling and neither one wanted to stick around and see the damage that had ensued. Swearing under her breath and blinking back tears, Olivia started forward the door, grabbing the first Hoodie that was within reach. Grabbing the doorknob in a death grip, she threw the door open and then slammed it shut as hard as she could. She practically threw herself down the apartment step, pulling the Hoodie over her head and wrapping her arms tightly around herself. Still blinking back tears, she stumbled down the street following the familiar route to the park, the sky gray and mist forming all around her. Sniffling, she shuffled down the park, rubbing her stomach absentmindedly and hoping that maybe this time, _this time, _they could continue on in their relationship without fighting. Of course, she knew that was a childish thing to think and she also knew that was like a child's prayers; hopeful and slightly pathetic. Shaking her thoughts away, she mulled towards the park, hoping for something, some sign that everything would be okay. Shaking her head and wiping her hand across her eyes, Olivia didn't realize she was veering to close to the side until she felt her foot slam against the sidewalk edge, soon followed by a low, insistent throbbing and that soon turned into a painful, continuous hum. Blinking back even more tears now, Olivia decided that enough was enough and that she honestly didn't want to go to the park. Carefully lowering herself to the sidewalk's ledge, she pulled her legs as closely to her body as they would come, and buried her face into her knees. So enraptured by her own thoughts, she was surprised to hear the muffled thump on the concrete. Sniffling, she raised her head and watched a figure appear through the mist and slowly become more and more clear. Olivia blinked in surprise when she saw Kieran. "What do you want?" Olivia demanded as soon as he got within hearing distance. He shot her an unreadable look and then leaned over, placing a hand on his knees. After a minute, he rubbed his arm across his forehead and slowly walked up to Olivia. She didn't make any move to stand and he slowly crouched down in front of her, crossing his arms and resting them on top of Olivia's. She glared at him for a minute longer before speaking, "What do you want?"

"What are you doing out here when it looks like a scene from a horror movie?"

Sniffling and glaring right into his green eyes, Olivia snapped out, "B-because you told me to, you idiot. And because I don't want to stand there and continue screaming at someone over and over again. Call me crazy, but that seems like a really stupid thing for anyone to do." Kieran continued to stare at her for a while longer, and then leaned forward, placing his forehead on hers.

"You're the idiot, idiot," he told her quietly, reaching out and grabbing her hands.

"You told me to leave!" Olivia snapped, taking her hands back. Rolling his eyes, Kieran shot her a disbelieving look,

"I came looking for you 5 minutes later, idiot."

Blinking, she continued to glare at him before slowly feeling her anger drain out of her, enough for her to realize that it was actually freezing cold. Shivering, she pulled the Hoodie even more tightly around frame and began to stand. Kieran reached out a hand and helped her as much as she would accept. As soon as she got to her feet, she kept her grip on Kieran's hand as they began walking back to the apartment. Out of the blue, something came to Olivia and she glanced up at Kieran,

"Hey, Kier, why aren't you wearing a Hoodie or something? It's freezing cold out here?" Smiling at her sheepishly, Kieran glanced down at her and pulled one of her dark red curls,

"You took my Hoodie," He told her. Blinking in surprise, she glanced down at her Hoodie, now noticing that the Hoodie was far too big and was way too dark.

"Oh," she drawled out. Paused, then shrugged, "Well, you knocked me up, I get your Hoodie. It's the least you could do." Kieran burst out laughing then surprised Olivia by bending down and kissing her. The familiar feeling of warmth spreading through her, all the way down to her toes engulfed Olivia, earning a large, beaming smile from both parties.

"I love you, Liv," Kieran whispered, his forehead against hers. She smiled in turn and pecked his cheek.

"I love you too, but if you ever wake me up at 3 in the morning again, there will be hell to pay."

Kieran 'Tsk'-ed, "Such language,"

"Bite me."


End file.
